


Whiskey & Granite

by thebaddestwolf



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1210420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebaddestwolf/pseuds/thebaddestwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billie lingers in David's flat after the other guests have gone. There is whiskey involved. And a granite counter-top.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whiskey & Granite

Billie pretended to focus on the whiskey swirling in her glass, the amber liquid following the circular movements of her wrist, around and around and around. It's how she pictured the effect the spirit was having on her body, too, warming her chest and spiraling outward, coating her veins like the inside of the glass.

But while she seemed intent on the contents in her hand, her hazy attention honed in on David's voice, his Scottish brogue thickening with each swig. He was drinking whiskey too, of course, they all were, nearly a dozen people sitting on various couches and chairs in the front room of his flat. Well it wasn't his, strictly speaking -- a production company had put him up there since he was filming nearby and he had invited a group of friends round to christen the new digs with some top-shelf booze and conversation.

  
Billie wasn't going to attend -- something told her not to -- but the flat was just twenty minutes from her house and she desperately needed a night out. Of course it was more than that, the reason she decided to go, and the realization became clearer with each sip. She missed him. She missed having a laugh with him as mates, missed the constant flirtation, the testing of boundaries, the pushing of limits. Boundaries and limits they had never crossed, to each of their surprise. Looking back, they were probably too frightened to ruin what they had with each other, with other people.

Now they both had those other people, and children, and homes, and careers, and lives between them, but tonight she just wanted to forget all of that. She wanted to pretend that they had both finished shooting, had gone to someone's place in Cardiff for a few drinks, and would be filming together all day tomorrow. And the day after that, and the day after that. As the level of whiskey sank lower and lower in her glass, the easier the pretending became.

  
It didn't help that she sensed his feelings skewed nostalgic too, the way his lips lingered when she had pecked him hello, the way his hand kept returning to the small of her back when he moved around the kitchen, pouring drinks and assembling cheese and crackers. They were always rather touchy with each other and she missed being like that with a man who wasn't her husband.

  
Billie got up to use the loo when the conversation turned to reminiscing about everyone's teenage years -- a topic she liked to avoid since a mention of world tour-induced eating disorders tended to bring any conversation to a screeching halt. His eyes were on her the second she walked back into the room and he motioned for her to sit on the cushion on the floor by his feet. She smiled and complied, tucking her legs beneath her, smoothing her short skirt, and resting her back on his knee. After a few moments be began to knead her shoulder with one hand and it was all she could do not to close her eyes and lean into his touch.

  
Suddenly, someone proclaimed they were calling it a night and one by one the rest of the group stood to leave, as if a collective decision had been made. Billie reeled at the sudden change in atmosphere as David let his hand drop from her shoulder and he rose to wish his guests goodnight. After a minute she stood too, slowly gathering her belongings, saying goodbye to her friends. As their numbers dwindled she rummaged through her bag, stalling, needing the night to not be over just yet. She would have been happy to merely sit against him like that for hours.

  
The front door shut and he walked back into the sitting room, running a hand over his stubble. Billie was putting on hand lotion, for want of something else to do. He raised an eyebrow at her and she laughed, shrugging.

  
"Want another drink, Bill?"

  
No, absolutely not, that was the last thing she needed.

  
"Sure."

  
He playfully wrapped his large hand around the back of her neck and guided her into the kitchen, releasing her to take a new bottle of whiskey down from the shelf.

  
"What, did we finish off that whole bottle?" she asked, jumping up to sit on the granite kitchen island, swinging her dangling legs.

  
"We did indeed," he grinned, pouring her another healthy glass. "Thanks, in large part, to you I believe."

  
"Oh come off it, we all know who the lush is between the two of us," she scoffed, kicking one foot out to tap his hip. He caught it and motioned as if he was going to pull her off the counter-top, eliciting a burst of giggles from his friend.

  
"Fine, but you've given me a run for my money on more than one occasion," he laughed, letting her foot drop and handing her the half-full glass.

  
She smirked, taking a sip of her drink in an attempt to dull the absence of his touch. The alcohol wasn't helping, this much she knew, but she couldn't stop the yearning for his skin on hers. She had felt so content with her back against his knee, his hand around her ankle. She tried unsuccessfully not to let her thoughts drift any further than that.

  
She held her hand out to him, palm up, reaching halfway between the kitchen island and the cabinets, against which he leaned. After staring at her outstretched hand a moment he grasped it with his own, meeting her gaze.

  
"I missed you," she said, tilting her head with a sad smile.

  
"I missed you too, Bills." He put his glass down and ran his free hand over his scruff.

  
She retracted her hand, still holding his, pulling him in slowly. He went willingly until her knees pressed against his thighs and he enveloped her in a tight hug. She nuzzled her head under his chin, reveling in the feel of his strong chest beneath her, breathing in his scent of whiskey and smoke and aftershave. She put her glass down with a loud clink on the granite, wrapping both arms around him.

  
Billie would have been happy to stay like this for hours, though her bum was beginning to go a bit numb from sitting on such a hard surface, until his hands began to move up and down her back. That tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had been ignoring since he'd invited her days ago burst in that moment, washing over her, spurred on by alcohol and years of suppressed desire.

  
She leaned her face away from him to look into his eyes and, finding confirmation there, grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his lips down to hers. David seemed shocked at first, his lips unmoving, and she worried for a second that she'd cocked everything up when his tongue slid between her lips. She gasped into him, clutching at his hair and the fabric of his shirt, exploring his mouth in a way she wished she'd been able to do when the cameras were rolling. He tasted just like she remembered, with the added benefit of expensive whiskey, and she made to taste every inch of his mouth.

  
It was hard to concentrate, though, the way his lips and tongue moved against hers, the way one hand flexed at the nape of her neck, the way his other hand traveled down her back, grazed her bum, and was now gripping the outside of her thigh. She needed to know if he was as hard as she was wet, and dragged her hand from his chest downward until she found him there, straining inside his jeans. He twitched against her touch.

  
"Fuck, Bill," he gasped, breaking the kiss, staring down to her with wonderment, as if to confirm that she was really real. Holding his gaze, she moved her hand over him more deliberately and he leaned into her touch, eyes darkening. He released his grip on her thigh and wedged his hand between her knees, splaying his fingers until her legs were a hands-width apart.

  
Opening her legs for him, even just a few inches, was so arousing that another wave of tingling heat spread through her. She looked up at him, eyes glossy, jaw fallen slack, as he began to trail his fingers inward along her thigh, pushing at the hem of her skirt.  
"I've wanted this..." he began, his voice rough, before leaning down to give her another deep kiss. A small moan escaped from the back of her throat.

  
"Fuck," he said, swallowing thickly, before trying again. "I've wanted this since the day I met you."

  
"Why'd you wait so long then?" she grinned, hand beginning to work at the fly of his jeans.

  
"I have no sodding idea," he laughed darkly and then his mouth was on hers again, hand traveling further up her thigh. By the time Billie got his zipper down his hand was nearly to her knickers and she had to abandon her task to grip the counter-top in order to stay upright. When she felt his finger graze her through her pants she clamped her thighs around his arm instinctively and broke the kiss to pull some much needed air into her lungs.

  
"Like that?" he asked, eyes smiling. She gasped in affirmation as he moved his finger lightly against the fabric of her knickers.

  
"God, you're so wet," he breathed into her hair, as his touch grew firmer and traveled higher, running along the fabric above her clit. Her hips bucked under his touch and he continued to focus his attention there as he snaked his other hand up under her blouse.

  
"Ah-ha! I thought you didn't have a bra on."

  
"I thought I saw you looking."

  
His thumb rubbed circles over her nipple and Billie had to bite his shoulder to keep from screaming. She collected her wits about her enough to reach into his pants and close her hand around his base, slowly tightening her hold until he thrust against her palm. Keeping that grip she began to stroke him, rubbing the pad of her thumb over the tip of him on the upstroke, spreading the seeping wetness downward.

  
David swore into her ear before moving his head downward, closing his mouth around her other nipple through the thin fabric of her blouse. He sucked and used his tongue to move the light material over the hard bud until Billie whimpered, clutching at his hair.

  
Releasing her, he took his hand from beneath her shirt and used it to pry her knees apart, slipping his hips between them. She gasped at the feel of him there, so close to where she needs him. With more room to work with, he pushed her knickers to the side and slipped a finger into her. Billie moaned, gripping his neck, her hand motionless around his cock as he inserted another finger.

  
"If you like this, just wait," he rasped into her ear.

  
She felt her orgasm start to build in the pit of her stomach and pushed his hand away, not wanting to come without him inside her. Billie laughed at his momentarily dejected look as she quickly shoved his jeans and pants down and shimmied closer to the edge of the counter, already slick beneath her. She gave him a few good strokes, as if he wasn't already painfully hard, as he stepped closer.

  
"Ready?" she asked, gazing at him from hooded eyes. He bent down to kiss her in response, mouth needier than ever, as he pushed her knickers aside again and lined himself up with her entrance. She gasped in anticipation and he pulled his head back to meet her gaze. He didn't say anything as he pushed into her, watching her mouth fall open with each inch.

  
Billie was glad he stilled for several seconds when he was fully in; it gave her time to savor the moment, when they truly crossed the threshold from friendship to lovers. Then the moment is over and he pulled out nearly completely before thrusting back in, repeating the movement over and over, harder, faster, until soft noises are a constant coming from Billie's mouth and he's grunting into her hair.

  
Her ankles locked around his back and one hand gripped at his patch of chest hair, the other arm leaning back against the counter for support. One of his hands reached beneath her and squeezed her bum, and she's glad after all the times she's caught him staring at it that the fantasy is finally fulfilled. Come to think of it, she's been wanting to do that too. She trailed her hand from his chest around to his backside and squeezed, pushing him into her harder with each thrust.

  
David's hips speed up and his breaths grew more shallow and Billie worries she isn't going to come in time. Maybe it's the whiskey, maybe it's the hard granite beneath her, maybe it's her brain over-thinking things as always, but whatever the reason she felt her climax begin to slip away. As if reading her mind, David changed their angle suddenly, cradling her back as he leaned further over her on the counter. She gasped loudly because now his cock was hitting her just  _there_ , over and over, and the warmth beginning to pool in her stomach again.

  
His free hand slipped under her shirt to caress her breast again, drawing whispered swears from Billie's lips, before he dragged the hand lower, under her skirt. He rubbed the pad of his thumb in quick circles over her clit and  _uunnhhh fuuuuck_  she's exploding, incinerating, disintegrating beneath him. David's thrusts intensify and he's moaning in her ear and she's still coming, feeling him twitch inside her.

  
She clung to his shoulders as he pulled them upright, hugging her to him while they both panted heavily. He moved to step back but she held him there, wanting to feel him grow soft inside her. He kissed her forehead and brushed the hair out of her face as best he could. She looked up at him and giggled, seeing how disheveled his hair is from her needy hands and imagining how tangled hers must be, too.

  
They laugh together until more serious thoughts quiet them. She wonders if this will be the last time, the only time. She wonders when the weight of it all will hit her.  
  
"You still haven't finished that drink," he said and she pushed the thoughts aside; he's still inside her, this time isn't over yet.  
  
"Are you trying to get me drunk, Teninch?"  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it, Bills."


End file.
